


Ouch. My Heart

by Marylin



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Derek, BAMF Stiles, Bottom!Stiles, Claiming, Derek Hale & Kira Yukimura Friendship, Knotting, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Magic Bond, Mate Bite, Pining, Sherriff Approves, Slow Build, Soul Bond, Top!Derek, Witches, bond marks, pack dynamic, pack mom! Stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-05 23:05:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11023473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marylin/pseuds/Marylin
Summary: Stiles is ready for college. Ready for parties, raves, no scary mystical and supernatural baddies, and hopefully lots and lots of sex. Only six more weeks until he's free of High School forever, hopefully supernatural free.And then poof. Supernatural baddies, a crazy witch with a sick sense of humor, and one sour wolf who drives Stiles up the fucking wall.OrThe story of how Derek and Stiles get stupidly cursed by an equally stupid witch and are suddenly stupid bonded with each other's stupid faces.





	1. not a kink

**Author's Note:**

> This is like brand new, hot off the press. Unbeta'ed because I'm a mess, and I just write this when I don't have work. I love bond works, and like when Stiles and Derek are tied together so. Here came this. 
> 
> Hope you like it! If you do, you can leave kudos/comments!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets slammed into walls (not in a sexy way.) ...(okay. Kind of sexy). 
> 
> Derek can't pronounce the right slang.

It's not that Stiles has a kink for being slammed into doors, walls, or other hard surfaces, in fact if there was a title that meant the complete opposite of 'kink' he would probably use that term to describe how he felt when his body connected with hard surfaces forcefully. However, no matter how he felt about it, he found himself slammed against walls and doors quite often, each time by the same ridiculously large and growling werewolf.

  
"Seriously dude, as much as I so enjoy these up close and personal talks, you can always, ya know, fucking talk to me like a normal person"

Stiles punctuated these words with a few pokes in the chest and an annoyed frown.

  
Looking down at the offending fingers as if contemplating biting them off, Derek Hale ground out through his clinched lips

  
"Maybe I wouldn't have to get my point across so physically if you listened more than spoke"

  
"Hey man, maybe if you listened more to all the amazing and educational things I told you, we wouldn't be in this position in the first place."

  
Derek took a moment to evaluate his hands clenched in the front of Stiles graphic tee, before tightening his grip  
"I'm perfectly comfortable with how we're situated."

Punctuating his point by pulling Stiles slightly away from the door and slamming him against it once more.

Stiles head banged against the door jam and he let out a muffled groan of pain. Looking at his handiwork with a self satisfied grin, Derek released his hold on the boy and stepped away.  
Stiles leveled his best glare at Derek, rubbing his head with one hand, and his chest with the other.

  
"What have you collected for me?"

  
Gaping at him like he was a piranha, instead of the snarly mega huge man wolf he was, Stiles shook his head with disbelief

  
"Dude. You just rammed me into a door. TWICE and you except me to give you information now!?"  
Shrugging, Derek nodded.

  
"Oh hell no. You are getting zilch from me Mr. Alpha On A Power Trip"  
Leveling Stiles with a borderline bored expression on his face, Derek walked over to Stiles's haphazardly 'organized' desk, and plopped down in his chair.

   
"I can just take it from you, you know."  
Derek said with a shit eating grin, reaching for Stiles computer. "But I know the second I touch this piece of wheezing junk, you'll freak out and tell me anyways"  
When he gets nothing in response, Derek pulls the computer closer to him. He only gets as far as lifting it up to put it in his lap when Stiles cracks (like he knew he would.)

"OKAY FINE. Fine. Just don't touch Petunia." Stiles takes a shaky breath, and then took the old contraption out of Derek's hands to place in his own lap, where he was now seated on the twin bed.  
Stiles didn't look up, not wanting to see the satisfied and smug expression on the other man's face.

  
"I didn't find much, okay? So before you go slamming me into the door again, just know that it's pretty hard to translate Archaic Latin into a comprehensible and understandable form of English. From your descriptions it seems like the preserve has a pod of Grootslangs near the western border."

"What the hell is a Growtslung?" Derek growls out, tapping his fingers on Stiles desk in an upbeat tempo that signified that if he wasn't impatient and annoyed before, he was definitely both of those now. (Because no matter how 'stoic' Derek seemed, it was super obvious when he was feeling impatient) 

  
"A Grootslang is an ancient and primordial being that is basically the founding creature of elephants and snakes. Just less cute and more murderous and manipulative."

"Fine. So a "Grootslang" (let it be known that Derek did actually make these quotation marks to Stiles, and let it be recognized that Stiles responded with a roll of his eyes) "has decided that our preserve is its new home?"

Stiles again rolled his eyes, because he swears that if he received a nickel each time Derek didn't listen to him thoroughly, he would have enough change to pay for his first semester at UCLA in the fall.

  
"Not just a Grootslang, you douchewolf, a pod of them. So that roughly translates to about 50. Which I have no idea how that's possible because these creepy mofos are originally from South Africa, so to migrate from there to Beacon Hills is really impressive. Unless these guys can transport...Oh man, Derek, do you think they transport?  
The only response Stiles received was a well aimed pencil to the temple.

"So how do we get rid of them?" Derek asks, arms crossed across his wide chest in the most obvious way to say 'I'm annoyed. Get on with it. No funny business' So basically Derek's normal body language.

"I think the more concerning thing is who transported them here. "

"Stop with the riddles Stiles and just fucking tell me how to get rid of them"

Glaring at Derek's blatant dismissal of what Stiles said, he responded.

  
"I'm trying to you douche face. They don't have the powers to transport themselves and they aren't from here. There's also an overwhelmingly large number of them that have decided to congregate on our property, and it's pretty hard for snakes to just slither all the way here from Africa. So we're looking for someone who knows about supernaturals, and who likes to transport scary snakes into the country"

It was quiet for a moment as Stiles lets his breathy explanation sink in, and then Derek stands abruptly. Jumping slightly at the sudden move, but also not as high as he would have 3 years ago, because Stiles has gotten increasingly used to werewolves and their heightened abilities, he watches as Derek paces up and down Stiles small bedroom.

"The only person that I know of who knows about us, are hunters."

  
Immediately Stiles is shaking his head.

  
"Ever since Allison's new code Argent hasn't even crossed onto the preserve, let alone release harmful things onto it. Plus, hunters don't love other supernatural things either. It's not just Weres that they're impartial to."  
Taking in his point, Derek nods slowly, before stopping his pacing in front of Stiles bedroom window.

"I'll keep my eyes open, let me know what else you find. I'll be back tomorrow to see what progress you've made." The unspoken "you had better have made some" was there in his expression. 

  
Since Stiles face seems to be permanently set to a glare when Derek is around, it's unsurprising when he levels one at Derek and states - "You know, I do have school. You know. School. You did that once too. I have college plans. If I fail out my last semester of high school, UCLA will rescind my acceptance."

For a moment Derek's hard and impassive expression, softened into a look of understanding, just long enough for Stiles to see it, and then shifts back to his normal impassive face.

"Pack, or school Stiles? Pack comes first." Holding his glare for a few more seconds, Stiles deflated with a sigh of defeat. Stiles nods, because Derek is right. Pack will always come before anything short of his dad.

Accepting Stiles silent nod, Derek ducks out the window and is gone.

Looking down at his watch, the same batman watch Scott had given him for his 12th birthday, Stiles groans when he registers that it's 2:45 am. In less than 4 hours, Stiles  
would have to be up and moving for school.

Closing Petunia gently, and transferring her to his desk, Stiles strips off his pants and falls into his already unmade bed. Foregoing brushing his teeth and showering, Stiles thought sleep would claim him quickly, instead, it seemed his mind thought this would be a fantastic time to go through overdrive.

Thinking over the nights events, Stiles rubs at the back of his head, where it was still slightly sore with its meeting with the doorjamb. It's not that Stiles hates Derek. Derek is Stiles alpha, his Pack, Stiles could never hate Derek. That doesn't mean they get along. Stiles was pretty sure that if they weren't Pack, Stiles would happily never talk or see Derek again, and vice versa. However they were Pack, and with Pack comes contribution. Derek contributes to the Pack by always protecting, training, and fighting for them, while Stiles contributed by telling Derek HOW to do all those things against the big ole baddies.

Rolling onto his side, Stiles runs through the history of Grootslangs in his head, until he dozes off.


	2. son of a witch!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Stiles needs a car jump, Derek is his grumpy rescue, and then they 'adventuring' together in the woods looking for scary poisonous creatures. Fun!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know that some bonds aren't like made from magic or anything. But I like the plot I have, and it works really well if it's like. Magically made. So. Yeah! 
> 
> If you're reading this, I hope you're doing hecka well!!!! ❤️

Stiles is jerked awake from a glorious dream about himself and that Abercrombie model man in that spread of People, getting down and dirty over a sea of plaid shirts, by his alarm clock, a recording of Scott saying "Stiles. Wakey Wakey. We got school you hottie."

  
Groaning at the overly happy and go lucky sound of Scott's voice, he reluctantly rolls out of bed and lands square on the floor. A zing of pain ran up his elbow, and down to his very core. Swearing profusely, and cradling his arm to his chest, Stiles proceeds to curse whoever decided to invent funny bones and make them decidedly NOT funny.

A shower, 2 Adderall , an ice pack, and a grumpy text to Scott about not forgetting his English paper, later, Stiles found himself locking the door behind him and climbing into his jeep 12 minutes before he normally did. He counted that a win, especially given how his funny bone still twinged slightly.

However, his "win" was promptly foiled by the very tell tale sound of an engine turning over. He tried once, twice, a third, and then slumped against the steering wheel and pulled out his phone.

Stiles : Jeeps battery dead. Need a jump.

2 minutes later.

Scott: I'm picking up Kira today, I can come by after, but we'll all be late. Try Lydia.

Stiles: Lydia's in the Hamptons this week, remember. She got that stupid school shadowing gig for the extremely smart and beautiful people (still think it's fake btw)

Scott: oh man. What about Boyd?

Stiles: Okay. Don't be late making out.

Stiles quickly thumbed over to compose a new text.

Stiles: Boooyd, my man, can you by chance come and jump start my baaaby for me.

Boyd: Even if I didn't think you calling your car "baby" was gross, I couldn't. I'm sick as shit.

Stiles: man, i told you not to eat those sketchy asada fries at lunch yesterday.

Boyd: It wasn't that you fuck. Isaac, Cora, and Erica have it too.

Stiles: Back with the orgys huh. K. Is Derek around.

Boyd: Yeah. Who do you think is taking care of our whiny asses.

Stiles decided not to respond to that since the answer was obvious and they were all going to have to deal without Derek for like 15 minutes.

Stiles: Come jump my car.

Derek: No.

Stiles: Please.

Derek: K.

This would have seemed like a victory to Stiles if hadn't looked at the clock on his dash and calculated that the amount of time it would take for Derek to get to his house, jump his car, and leave, he would be 14 minutes into home room. With Finstock.

Stiles felt himself slowly dozing off, the effects of the late night before wearing him thin. He was almost into that middle ground of sleep and wakefulness when there was a loud rap on his window. Jolting up, he rammed his head into the rear view mirror, successfully putting a new bruise on his already tender head.

Gazing bleary eyed through the window, he was met with a stoic Derek who looked even more snarly than usual. And Stiles was pretty accustomed to all of his snarly faces.

Quickly rolling down the window (because Roxanne didn't have electric windows, because she's an utter retro babe) He grinned sheepishly up at the older man.

"Heeey there. Hey Derek. Mr. Alpha Man, Derek. Wolf man. Huge wolf dude. What's up?"

He was met with a slight curl of the lip, and a menacing clacking of jumper cables.

Walking around to the front of the Jeep, Derek lifted the top with a loud creak of complaint from the old hinges. Stiles lost sight of him, over the hood of the car, and used that time to get a hold of his  still pounding heart from the surprise awakening.

"Okay" Derek said, standing beside the driver side door of the Camaro, one hand on the inside. "Go ahead and crank it" as the soft purr of the Camaro's engine revved to life. Stiles crossed his fingers, and turned the engine over.

It roared to life in a cacophony of sound that made the Camaro look like a mute. He turned to face Derek and threw a belated punch through the window. He was met with a disdainful look and a shake of the head.

"You should really get that checked out." Derek said, as he made his way back around to the front of the Jeep to unhook the jumper cables.

"Nah, Roxanne is as spiff as ever." Stiles said fondly, patting the dash.

  
"Mhmm. Yes. That's so apparent. Get to school. I'll see you at 2 tonight. Sharp."  
As fast as his good mood had appeared, it disappeared just as fast at the mention of tonight's meeting.

  
"You know big guy. One day, I'm gonna have a booty call guy at that time, and you won't be able to hit me up for info at 2 AM, so savor this while it lasts."

  
Derek rolled his eyes and nodded  
"Right. Well forgive me if I don't hold my breath for that to happen."  
Stiles would have taken that as an insult if he didn't have the exact same attitude about it that Derek did.

"Here's an idea big guy, we just go to the fucking border to see what these baddies look like and you can get a nice big sniff of them with your huge Clifford nose."

"Stiles if you keep comparing me to Clifford the big red dog, I will tear your fingers off with my teeth".

"Getting tired of the throats then huh big guy."

When his only response was a glare and a huff, Stiles grinned and tipped an imaginary hat in Derek's direction.

"Thanks for the jump big guy. I'll meet ya at the house at 2:15. Be there or be square."

Flashing one last smug smirk, he backed out of his narrow drive way, and headed off to purgatory. I mean. BHHS.

From the funny bone, to the dead battery, Stiles day kept getting worse. Continuing with Finstock tearing him a new one, and then tearing him another one when he had to cover for Scott and Kira as to why they were even later than he was. Segueing to the cafeteria serving fish fillet for lunch, (it looked more like grey felt than fish) and then moving on to Coach making him run 10 laps around the lacrosse field, because since Stiles was so late in the morning, he most definitely had the energy to run due to all of the extra sleep he got.

So when Stiles stumbled out of the metal doors at 2:00 and crawled into his Jeep, just to remember that he had to be at the Pack House in less than 15 minutes, he nearly wanted to cry.

But no. He was a manly man, who didn't cry over the simple problem of overexertion and exhaustion. He didn't ever have a problem of going on only 3 hours of sleep, no. 

The road to the former Hale house was winding, deserted, and smooth since Derek repaved it. It was a nice way to wind down from the day, and Stiles always found himself losing track of time, getting lost in the trees and bits of sun that peaked through  

Derek was waiting for him on the front porch in his regular Henley, dark wash jeans, and boots. Jumping down from the steps as Stiles pulled up, he grabbed something from the ground beside the Camaro, and made his way over to Stiles who was climbing out. 

Eyeing the object in Derek's hands, Stiles raised one eyebrow. 

"Brake fluid? Are you expecting to kill these things with car maintence items?" Rolling his eyes (Stiles hopes one day they get stuck in his head) Derek just dropped it in the passenger side of the Jeep  

"When you pulled away from the house this morning, your brakes squeaked. Since you drive the pack to school most days, I'd rather you not kill them because of faulty brakes." 

Huffing in indignance, Stiles crossed his arms across his chest. 

"Roxie's brakes are fine thanks." 

"Stiles, you have duct tape on your engine. I don't think you know what you're talking about. Boyd will fix it for you." 

"Boyd is sick. So ha." Wincing at the 'ha' at the end, because it really did sound childish even to Stiles ears. 

"Boyd is a werewolf who's immune system fixed itself hours ago." Cocking an eyebrow, Derek stood, watching Stiles battle with himself over admitting his Jeep needed help, or not. Finally deciding on just moving on and ignoring the issue, Stiles said - "From what you've said, the Grootslangs have taken up residence in the outcrop of rocks by the look out. So let's go. Let me grab the four wheeler real fast." 

Marching around the back of the house, waving at Cora through the window, Stiles opened up the old shed to uncover the shiny red four wheeler that was used for either himself or Lydia during full moons. 

Mounting it, and fastening his helmet, Stiles cranked it and released the clutch. Driving through the small clearing, he drew up next to Derek, who had half shifted already. 

"Ready wolf man?" 

With a slight snarl, they were off. Stiles had always liked riding beside the pack. He couldn't run with them, but this was as close as he could get, and he loved it. He felt like an equal when he got to do this. 

As they approached the western border, Stiles noticed Derek twitching his nose in the way he only did when he smelled something he didn't understand.

Stiles braked and watched Derek as he stopped and paced back and forth, smelling the air. Stiles had done this enough times with Derek to know when to intervene and when to let him voice his findings when he was ready.

It was 12 minutes later when Derek stopped in front of Stiles, his nose still twitching slightly.  

"It's like nothing I've ever smelled before. It smells like ozone." 

Stiles took an experimental sniff, and shook his head. 

"All I smell is forest. Do we need to get closer." 

Hesitating, Derek took one more sniff and then nodded. 

"We aren't close enough for me to discern all the other smells. All I know is that ozone is a big part of it." 

They began their speedy progression deeper to edge of the preserve. Another mile and a half later, Derek motioned for Stiles to cut the engine so they could continue on foot. 

Ten minutes of walking later, Derek bent down into a crouch, pulling Stiles with him. 

"I can smell them. Ozone definitely. And what is either bi carbonate or maybe chlorine. I don't know. I've never been this confused before." Casting his gaze up to Derek's face, Stiles took in his confused and anxious expression. 

"What do you mean? Are you saying that your nose sniffer is broken or something?" Growling in frustration, Derek ran his free hand through his hair, his other hand still gripping Stiles bicep. 

"I don't know. It's like. I can smell everything clearly, but when I try to process what it is, it's like my brain fizzles out. I can't seem to focus on any one scent." 

Right when that pit of cold anxiety dropped in Stiles chest, a loud crack echoed through the woods. 

Stiles found himself laying on his stomach, arms trapped at his sides, with Derek crouching in full wolf form, hackles up, his two front legs caging Stiles's head in from either side. 

"Aye sonny, of course ye can't smell a dander thing. Yer nothing but er mutt. Mutts ain't good for anything but makin cute pups."  

The voice came from the narled old woman, wearing what looked like a whole flat layer of moss caked all over her body. Beside her were two creatures that looked suspiciously like the pictures of Grootslangs sitting on Petunia back home. Apparently Derek thought so too, because a loud ripping snarl came from deep within his chest. 

"Now now. No need fer that kind er greetin. We ain't doin nothin scandalous sonny." 

Another loud growl came from the wolf over him, and Stiles was just done with this elusive and frankly stupid, aggressive talk. 

"Hi. Hey. I don't think he loves that, so I you could just. Oh I don't know. Tell us what the fuck you're doing on our property, he can shift back, I can go home, and hopefully get some frankly well deserved sleep." 

The woman's limp eye focused on Stiles, and a wide smile crossed her face. 

"Well well. Look ere' boys. Seems our host has a boy. A very pretty one at that aye." 

Derek crouched down, looking ready to pounce. This also meant that Stiles face was covered in soft yet coarse black hair. 

"Derek. You're suffocating me." 

He lifted up a bit, so that Stiles could breath, but didn't rise entirely from his crouched position.

"Also Ms. Creepy garden moss lady, I'm not his boy." 

She raised an eye brow that looked suspiciously like a stem of a dandelion. 

"Mate then. Aye yes sonny, Mate. Forgot how picky you mortals can be aye yes." 

Spluttering in surprise, Stiles stared at the half grass half person standing in front of him. Well. He stared as best he could with his whole body pressed face down. 

"We aren't mates! Now would you please just fucking tell us why you're here on our property?" 

Stiles had thought her expression was amused. Slightly crazed maybe, but not very agressive. However after he spoke her expression slipped into one of anger and menacing rage. 

"I don't like being spoken to so rudely. And I especially don't appreciate lies sonny. Aye. No sir ye, I will not tolerate the lies sir. No. I shall have to fix this. I shall have to fix ye attitude. If ye shall not give me the truth sonny I shall pull it from ye yes I will." 

Derek's low snarling evolved to full fledge snapping. He sank lower into the ground, bracing his legs, ready to pounce. 

The woman glared at them both. 

"No manners sonny. None at all." 

Then three things seemed to happen at once. 

The witch snapped her fingers, a loud bang and a flash went off, and then there was an excruciating pain right above Stiles heart. It grew hotter and hotter, and Stiles let out a yell of pain, his fists clenching so tight, he felt the dull pain of his short fingernails breaking he skin of his palms. 

Slowly the pain drained from his body, and he distantly heard the labored breathing and small whines of Derek beside him.

The last thing Stiles thought before he blacked out completely was 

"Ouch. My heart." 


	3. bonded. james bonded.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek wake up.  
> Deaton is no help.  
> Derek is dumb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sleepy, so this might have a lot of errors in it. I've proofread it like 7 times, but I'll make sure to do it again tomorrow to edit anything I missed! 
> 
> I hope you're enjoying it! 
> 
> If you like it, feel to LEAVE kudos/comments. Feedback is great!

The first thing Stiles thinks when he opens his eyes is "wow. There are a lot of bugs on the forest floor." The next is "ow my body." And the third is "why the fuck am I staring so close up at a roly poly." It's right around when the roly poly accidentally flipped on its back and couldn't get up again, that Stiles remembered the scary moss lady, the weird whistley way she spoke, and the excruciating pain that racked his body to its core.

With a gasp, Stiles jolted, in such a hurry to scramble to his feet he kept falling. Finally when he reached a crouched position, did he look around the small clearing for Derek. It wasn't until he swept his gaze around for a second time, did he see him at the edge of the clearing. Looking out over the cliffs edge. There was no sign of the witch anywhere. Not even a trace of where she had stood.

For all intents and purposes, Derek looked okay. He was wearing low slung basketball shorts that he kept stashed in the trees along here, but other than that he was bare.

Even if Derek was wearing a shirt, Stiles was sure he would still be able to see the tension in his shoulders. Stiles was sure that if he squinted hard enough, he'd see it leaving his body in waves. Currents of anxiety and negative energy radiating off him. Stiles was sure it was his imagination, the feeling of Derek's energy hitting him like waves in the face, leaving Stiles feeling broken and scared.

He slowly rose from his crouched position, and then winced. Staring down at the spot above his heart, where the gut wrenching pain had been moments before, was a large stain of vibrant red. Stiles knew the unmistakable sight of blood. With shaking fingers, he peeled the neck of his White V neck away from his body, to peer down at his pale skin. What met his eyes wasn't nearly as horrific as he was expecting.

It was as if someone had taken a small pocket knife and just sketched into his skin an intricate circle stamp. As he gazed harder at it, he could see a distinguished beginning line of the circle, but as he followed the motion of the line, it got so tangled up in the inner workings of the circle to show no distinguished ending.

He finally peeled his gaze away from his chest and gingerly let go of his shirt, the feel of the moist fabric grating against his raw skin.

He knew that Derek could hear him. Could hear the movements he was making, and his uneven heart beat. But he stood resolutely facing the outcropping view of the town, his shoulders more tense than before.

Slowly treading his way towards Derek, he stopped slightly behind him. Derek remained facing away from him, but Stiles wasn't fooled. He had seen the way Derek had tilted his slightly at the sound of him walking. Had shifted slightly closer to the overhang, his shoulders tensing even more. Stiles was sure if he got any more wound up, he would snap like a bow string.

"Hey Wolf Man. How are you feeling?" Stiles asked tentatively, his hand absentmindedly reaching up to run at the back of his neck. A gesture he made when he was anxious.

Derek remained mute.

"Derek. Dude. What just happened" again. Silence.

Shifting his weight from foot to foot, Stiles felt his anxiety begin to rise. As if it had been stoppered like a bath tub, and was now beginning to fill his body.

"Okay man, I really need you to say something because I'm freaking the fuck out here dude."

More broody silence.

His anxiety reaching its peak, and his temper getting up there as well, Stiles reached out and latched his arm to Derek's bicep, planning on spinning him around to face him.

However the minute his hand made contact with Derek's skin, it was as if an electric current went zinging down Stiles spine. His whole body felt as if it had just been turned into liquid jelly, and something soft and warm bloomed to life just under his navel.

At the physical contact Derek jumped away, and spun around.

It was as if a wave of grey blew over Stiles, and hovered around him, even as the warm feeling under his navel tried to battle it away.

Stiles took in Derek's taut shoulders, his clenched jaw, his fisted hands, and the identical mark over his heart just on his left pec, the exact same mark on Stiles skin.

"What. What the fuck." Stiles stuttered out. His hands coming up to clench his hair.

"I need you to fucking tell me what the fuck is going on right fucking now Derek." Stiles said, he could hear panicked he sounded. Could hear the anxiety dripping from every word he said. He watched as Derek closed his eyes, and took in a large deep breath.

A minute passed. Two. Three. Four. Then five. Six minutes passed until Derek finally spoke.

"We should go see Deaton."

An almost manic laugh escaped between Stiles lips as he stared at Derek in incredulity.

"I need to know what we're going to see him about first Derek. Now will you please fucking tell me what's happening, because you wouldn't look so Mr. Guilty Face if you didn't know anything."

It was Derek's turn to laugh, only this time it came out as a bitter choked sound, one that sounded almost ripped from his body.

"I have that face because I am fucking guilty Stiles. Look at yourself. Look at that mark on your chest. Do you know what that is. It's a fucking brand. A bond brand. It's supposed to symbolize WHO you belong to. Who you're bonded with. Forever. They never fucking go away Stiles. It's on your skin forever. So yes. I'm fucking guilty."

Stiles stared wide eyed at Derek for a moment, before scrambling to peel back his TShirt neck again to stare at the mark. The brand on his skin. It was already crusting over with dried blood.

"A bond mark?" Stiles choked out, still staring down at himself. He heard a sharp exhale come from Derek. And then -

"Yes, Stiles. A bond mark."  
"You mean. One of those bond mark things that I read about in Peter's bestiary that essentially ties you to one person for the rest of your life and in whatever reincarnate life you have.?"

It was quiet for a beat. And then quietly Derek spoke.

"Yes."

Stiles peeled his gaze away from his own chest, to focus in on Derek's. The same brand marked Derek's skin, and for some reason, it wasn't healing by itself. Stepping closer, almost as if mesmerized by the intricate folds of the circles lines, Stiles moved until he was close enough to feel Derek's faint breaths breeze across his face, and the warmth Derek radiated touch his body.

Carefully, tentatively, Stiles reached out one hand, and gently touched the raw skin with one finger. The moment his finger made contact with the brand, his whole body was filled with a warmth, and the overwhelming feeling of home.

Both of the men felt their chest constrict in a sharp inhale and Stiles slowly pulled his hand away from Derek's chest. However he didn't move back. Glancing up at Derek, Stiles felt his throat swell. Because he was sure his eyes mirrored the same surprise and pain that was in Derek's.

"So." Stiles said softly, eyes still on Derek.  
"Does this mean. Did she. Did the Moss Lady bond us together?"

Derek was the one to step back. He rubbed a dirty hand over his face, scrubbing at his eyes as if hoping to erase the last several minutes.

"That's why I think we should go see Deaton. He would know what to do with this. He would know...know how to help us. Acclimate."

Stiles could hear the unspoken "to our new lives" that Derek hadn't tacked onto the end of his sentence. However, from what Stiles had read in the Bestiary, that was essentially what they were in for now.

Staring past Derek's shoulder, Stiles took a deep breath. So this wasn't how he was planning for this week to go. More like this month. Or this year. Or you know. His life. But then again, when had his life ever gone to plan.

Refocusing his gaze to Derek, he sighed and conceded.

"Alright. We should go see Deaton."

~~  
"I'm sorry boys. From what you've told me, and shown me, I am afraid that your immediate hunch was a correct one. Whoever or whatever it was that you confronted in the woods, bonded you two together."

Deaton spoke in that annoyingly gentle lilt of a man giving bad news, and Stiles hated him for it.

After they had traipsed back to through the woods to the four wheeler and returned to the Pack house, everyone had left in the Camaro, with a scribbled note on the Jeep that simply read.

"Went to Wimpys. See ya dickwads. - Pack"

Derek had run into the house to pull on some shoes and a grey Henley, and then they had climbed into Stiles Jeep. The drive out of the preserve was nothing like the drive in, whereas the latter had been relaxing and filled with nothing but the slight yawn of exhaustion, this ride was filled with tension, and that fucking pulsing ball of warmth.

However now, standing in Deaton's small examination room, the tension was so thick you wouldn't even be able to cut it with a knife.

Both Derek and Stiles stared at Deaton, almost as if silence was the acceptable answer to what he had just said.

Suddenly Stiles was hit with the overwhelming realization of what that witch. More like bitch. Had done. Derek and Stiles were bonded. Probably for forever. Even Deaton thought so, Mr. "I know All that is scary and voodoo" thought they were Bonded. Forever.

The worst part of it was, while Stiles tried to focus on being angry. Being pissed, resentful, bitter, that pulsing warmth right beneath his navel was filling him with love, light, and that fucking feeling of home. The more he focused on it, the more it felt there was an invisible string, tying Derek and Stiles together, pulling them together.

Stiles was sucked out of his internal thoughts when he heard Derek say in a choked whisper.

"Are you telling us that Stiles is stuck with me for the rest of our lives?"

The energy ball pulsed, as if rejected the implication that Stiles was "stuck with" Derek, as if rejecting the implication that it was a bad thing.

Stiles looked at Derek, and then back at Deaton.

"From what I've read of bonds, and observed from a few cases, is that this brand. This mark, is like a second heart. Stiles, you have Derek's and Derek, you have Stiles's. The two Brands link you to together in unexplained ways."

Derek made a pained noise in the back of his throat, as he tugged on his hair.

There was an urge in Stiles to reach out and comfort, one that hadn't existed a day ago. Tentatively, afraid Derek might grow more panicked if he moved fast, Stiles gently wrapped a lose hand around Derek's wrist.

That same jolt of energy passed between them, and it made them both jump slightly. However Stiles didn't let go, and Derek didn't pull away.

Very gently, Stiles tugged Derek's hand away from his hair, and placed it on the metal table, his fingers still encircled like a lose bracelet around Derek's wrist.

"So." The word came out hoarse, so Stiles cleared his throat and continued.  
"So what should we be expecting? As in. What kind of changes will we be facing?"

Derek cut in quietly. "Will Stiles be able to have a life outside of this?" Stiles jerked his gaze up to Derek's face, but Derek stared resolutely ahead, measuring Deaton's expressions.

Biting his lip, Deaton answered slowly.

"Bond Brands are rare, so there's very little to reference this on. However, from what I do know, you will be looking at an ebb and flow of each other's emotions, occasional thoughts, sharing of physical sensations, and since Derek, you are a werewolf and therefore possess certain abilities Stiles does not, I would not be surprised if Stiles is given some of the benefit of these abilities now that you two are tied so closely. The bond will continue to grow stronger as it heals, and it will do best if nurtured. At first, time apart will weaken the bond, sicken it if you will, and you will become sick due to the malnourishment of the bond. As for your question Derek, it depends what you qualify as a life outside of this. You are Stiles Bonded now. He will never have another relationship stronger than this one is his life. It would be very challenging for him, and you for that matter, to act as if this never happened."

Stiles could feel the rigid set of Derek's arms. Could almost sense the anguish and guilt coming off him in waves. In response, the tie sent a pulse through, trying it seemed, to diminish the darkness that was engulfing the other man.

They were all quiet for a moment, before Stiles spoke up.

"What do you mean by 'nourishment'" Stiles asked, directing his question at Deaton, while still focusing his gaze on Derek.

"That pulse of energy you feel when you touch is the bond growing stronger, so physical touch is a big component. The other key component is time. Give it some time to heal, and to become solid."

Derek lurched away from the table, and was marching out the back door, barely letting Deaton finish.

Watching him go, Stiles sat for a moment. Staring at the empty door way.

"I know this is a lot to take in Stiles. Perhaps you two should let this sink in for a bit, and come back tomorrow afternoon after my office hours."

Nodding, still slightly shocked, Stiles pulled himself away from the table, and followed after Derek at a slow pace.

Stiles found him pacing in the alley way in the back, looking like a caged wolf. And Stiles supposed that was exactly what he was.

"Derek. " Stiles said softly, trying to sound as gently as possible.

"Don't." Derek growled out, his hands clenched at his sides.

"Don't what?" Stiles asked, stepping a bit closer to the older, agitated man.

"Don't do what I know you're gonna try and fucking do. Don't make me feel better about this."

Stiles drew closer, and Derek stepped farther away, throwing him a glare.

"Derek, why are you acting like this is your fault? You didn't know that some creepy moss lady had an agenda to bond us together forever."

Derek abruptly stopped his speed tracks on the alley way concrete, and leveled Stiles with a look of pure self hatred.

"Don't you get it Stiles. Don't you fucking get it. I'm no good. I'm a broken fucking track. I'm that bootleg copy of a BLINK 182 concert that never got sold because I suck. I'm a mess and you're bonded to ME. You're stuck with me! I'm no good for you Stiles, and yet it seems like you have no other choice but to fucking spend the rest of your life with me."

Stiles stared at him, mouth agape. As his brain processed through what Derek had said, including the drool worthy BLINK 182 reference, his phone dinged.

Scott: Dude, where are you guys? Starting to get worried, come to Wimpy's and get some food.

Stiles sighed as he read the text and returned his phone to his pocket. He was met with a stony faced Derek.

Rubbing his face with his hands, Stiles could feel the effects of the day in his very bones. His eyes feeling itchy in the way only exhaustion can cause.

"I don't think you're broken. You're a great alpha and honestly you're a good guy too. If I had to be bonded forever with someone, I wouldn't say it would be you. But I also can't imagine anyone better. Now our pack is worried and waiting for us at Wimpy's. We should go join them.

They stared at each other for a moment. Neither of them saying anything, before Derek nodded slowly, and moved to stand beside him.

They both set off to the only local diner Beacon Hills had to offer, their shoulders brushing every so often, warmth flowering around them with every touch.

They remained silent for most of the walk, before Derek stopped them right outside of werewolf earshot.

"You get to tell them though" he said, and then he marched on ahead.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Derek's dumb. ❤️


	4. it's 'official'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they tell the Pack.   
> The Bonds a bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy!

"You're _what!?_ " It was Cora who had finally spoke up, her face pale, her hand clenched around Isaac's.

When Stiles and Derek had stumbled through the door of the diner, they could all tell something had happened. They had been greeted with worried looks and multiple touches to the face and arms.

Scott had full on growled at the scent of blood, and the splotched stain on Stiles white shirt that peaked through from underneath his hoodie.

After they had ordered, Stiles had proceeded to spill the beans, starting with the traipse in the woods and ending with their walk here. However he did leave out his and Derek's conversation from the alley way. Preferring to keep that to himself.

When he had fallen silent, and really taken in the Pack's expressions, he was met with a myriad of emotions. Ranging from horror, to worry, to shock. Derek was as stony as ever. However, Stiles could feel through the faint tie, that pulse of guilt and self hatred that had already become slightly familiar to him.

Focusing in on Cora, who had spoken Stiles sighed and picked at the napkin that was in front of him. Gently shredding it to pieces.

"Bonded." Stiles said, his voice sounding slightly choked.

"As in like. The way Mom and Dad were?" This time Cora's question was directed at Derek.

Stiles blinked, surprise filtering through his veins.

Derek's parents were bonded? Why hadn't he told him that?

It was quiet for a few seconds and then Derek nodded. Resignedly he spoke - "Mom and Dad might have had a different bond since there's was one cultivated since birth. Ours was forged by magic so it may be different."

Stiles heard the unspoken "that's why I didn't mention it" that Derek seemed to be attempting to convey.

Stiles nodded and turned his attention back to the Pack. Scott had his "I'm trying to figure out what to say" face on. And Isaac just looked confused.

"Are you telling us that instead of Stiles being like. Pseudo pack mom, he's ACTUALLY pack mom now?"

And Stiles wished Isaac had just continued to look confused and not have opened his mouth.

It was quiet for a moment, and then Kira let out an unceremonious snort. Flicking his gaze to her, he saw that she was trying hard not to laugh.

All of them stared at her like she had just grown a third head.

"I'm sorry." She cut herself off with another peal of laughter. "Really I am" a giggle escapes. "This isn't funny" Arms wrapped around her stomach as if to try and suppress the giggles escaping. "it's just. She couldn't have picked a more perfect person." She finished, with her eyes watering from the force of her laughter.

Everyone was staring at her as she slowly composed herself. Leaving a small smile on her face.

Boyd and Erica both shrugged as if this made perfect sense.

"Well if nobody else is gonna question what the hell she means I guess I will" Stiles said, quirking up to fingers in a "hellloooo" kind of salute.

"She's saying that you're already basically our mother, and the fact that this bitchy witchy decided to make it official and permanent is just icing on the already baked Stiles Stilinski pack mom cake."

Erica said, reaching over to rescue the half shredded napkin that was sitting in front of Stiles.

"Pfft. pfft. What. Pfft. No. I am not a 'Mom' I'm a manly man, who by the way, is a man. And also. Half of you have parents, and the other half of you guys have a Derek. So. You know.  Case and Point."

They all just stared at him. And then their food came and the 'earth shadowing news that Stiles and Derek are basically married' was lost in the mess that was Pack Night dinner.

So basically telling the Pack was just a dumb idea.

As Derek paid for the check (because he had money and face it - none of them had any cash because they suck) they all separated to different vehicles.

Scott and Kira headed to Scott's dirt bike, and Stiles wouldn't be surprised if they went back to Kira's and fucked until sunrise. However Scott pulled away from the curb with a look that promised a long conversation in the morning.

Erica, Boyd, Cora, and Isaac all gathered around Derek for a moment, doing some weird wolf communication thing, before separating with soft nuzzles into Derek's shoulders and neck. They climbed into the Camaro, and Stiles suddenly found himself very very alone with Derek.

Except he didn't feel lonely. The empty part of him that had been vacant since the Nogitsune was now filled. With a warmth that seemed to pulse through his veins, as if all of his blood cells were compasses, pointing him in one direction. Pointing him toward Derek.

Avoiding his gaze, Derek scuffed the toe of his combat boots against the cement. Breaking the silence, he said

"We should probably, you know, tell your dad or something."

"Oh fuck. Oh Jesus fucking Christ."

How. How had Stiles forgotten about his dad. How the fuck was Stiles supposed to explain this to his Dad. Was he just supposed to walk up and be like "hey yo dad, I know I've never had a girlfriend before but like. Guess who I just basically got married to FOREVER. That's right! Derek Hale. The smokin hot 26 year old Alpha Were who you've arrested like twice. When do you wanna have the celebratory party?"

"Well, I wouldn't say it like that. Maybe be a bit less crass" Derek said, his hands scrunched into the pockets of his gym shorts, giving him a sheepish kind of appearance. If it wasn't for his stupid smug smirk dancing on his stupid face, Stiles might have thought he looked bashful.

"Did I say all of that out loud" Stiles asked, his cheeks burning at the fact that he just called Derek smokin hot to his face.

His smirk widening, Derek nodded. Groaning in embarrassment, Stiles scrubbed at his face, and then slapped at his cheeks to try and get energized enough to face his dad.

"You know, you don't have to come with me. Only one of us has to die tonight."

Shaking his head, Derek started walking towards the Jeep.

"Neither of us is going to die, and plus, we probably shouldn't be apart for long periods of time for a little while."

Stiles unlocked Roxie and clambered in, cranking the heat and backing out of his sloppy parking job.

It was easier to talk to Derek when he didn't have to look at him, so Stiles took a deep breath and asked the question he had been itching to ask ever since Cora mentioned her parents.

"Why didn't you tell me your parents were Bonded?"

He heard Derek let out an exhale, as if he had been holding his breath, WAITING for Stiles to ask.

"We aren't the same as they are. Were." Stiles winced at the time correction of Derek's words. No matter how much time passed from the Hale fire, it was something Derek and Cora would carry around for the rest of their lives. If you took an X-ray to their hearts, Stiles was certain you would see them covered in scar tissue, from the emotional wounds that never quite healed.

"Well I know that much. We're both dudes for one, and I'm not werewolf. But we're still Bonded. What's the difference."

"We're Bonded by magic. By some strange force that can somehow dictate who to tie with who. My parents were bonded by _fate._ From the day they were born, they had that Brand on their skin, and it lead them to each other. It was a natural tie of energy between them."

Stiles let that soak in for a moment, preoccupied with how open Derek had just been.

It was true enough that through the years, Derek had become more open and inviting to questions about his life. But it was still a surprisingly new development of how much he just shared.

"How did their Bond manifest itself?"

Stiles could hear a rustle of fabric, as if Derek was rearranging himself to face a little more towards the window. Turning his face into the breeze of the spring night.

"They could tell what the other was feeling, and if they concentrated hard enough, they could find where the other was. It came in handy when we went into a Super Target or something."

He let out a soft chuckle, as if remembering a fond memory, and Stiles could feel his heart swelling with affection and warmth at the thought of a little Derek traipsing around Target holding the hand of a man who looked quite a lot like the Derek now.

"It was like it's own living organism, like Deaton said, the Bond tied them together, but it needed nourishment. If it didn't, it would do what it had to survive. There was a time when I was 7, Dad had gone on a business trip with one of his female associates, half way through mom started getting really ill. We didn't understand it at the time, we had never seen her get sick before. We called Dad, and he picked up from the airport of Beacon Hills. After he got home and Mom got better, we learned that the woman, his female associate, had been flirting with him, and as their relationship got closer, mom and dad's Bond got weaker. Dad left the company the next week, and started his own."

By this time, Stiles had pulled into his driveway and shut the engine off. Derek fell silent, and all that could be heard was the soft rise and fall of each other's breathing.

After a moment Stiles spoke up.

"So, if we spend time apart, we'll get sick?"

Shifting to face Derek as much as he could in the Jeeps old seats, Stiles saw his shoulders shrug in the darkness.

"I don't know. Again, our bond is different from theirs."

"I can feel your emotions sometimes." Stiles blurted out, thinking of how Derek's guilt and self hatred had seemed to wash over Stiles in the alleyway just a few hours before. Derek nodded, looking as if this didn't surprise him.

"I can feel yours sometimes too. Like your panic in the woods, and your anxiety at facing your dad now."

Stiles cast his gaze to his front door, the weathered paint was slowly peeling away from the wood and it reminded him of how he was slowly peeling away from his dad, and the life they had built together.

"He's my dad, Derek." And Derek nodded, as if this simple sentence explained everything that was going on in Stiles head.

"We should go tell him, before he falls asleep." And with that, Derek popped open Roxie's door, and clambered out.

The problem with being so fucking exhausted and having done strenuous amounts of physical exercise, was the fact that they looked fucking wrecked. Looking at himself in his side view mirror, Stiles thought he looked quite like he had been mauled in the woods than attacked.

Sharing a tense look with Derek, Stiles squared his shoulders and marched up and through his old front door, trying to ignore the twinge when a large piece of paint fell off when he opened it.

~~

So telling his dad was complete shit. Okay not really. His dad had been shocked, then angry. Then grumbly. Then begrudgingly accepting. So now Stiles had a Sour Wolf in the guest bedroom, and a Dad who swore up and down that if Stiles and Derek fucked without a condom, John would shoot off Derek's balls with wolfsbane bullets.

The problem was, Stiles had had a fucking long day. Like one of those kick you in the balls kind of days. One of those days that drags you through the mud, shits on you, and then drags you through the mud again. Stiles should be exhausted. Should be snoring happily now, with the blankets pooled at his ankles and his limbs octopused out across the mattress.

All of these things should be happening. However, instead, his skin was fucking vibrating.

Okay. Not actually vibrating, but it felt as if there was a low cal vibration humming it's way through his blood cells, shaking him to his whole core.

He felt that small tie tugging him, pulling him, pulsing for him to get up, to walk down the hall, to open the door to the guest bedroom and to climb into the arms of the man in that bed.

He could feel his blood running hot in his veins, pounding it's way through his head, making it ache. His skin felt too sensitive and his lungs felt over exerted. The fabric of his cotton shirt felt like burlap rubbing against his skin, and the air felt like sharp stabs as it made its way down to his heaving lungs.

Lurching to his feet, Stiles took a step toward his door. All the sudden, his breaths came slightly easier, his shirt felt softer.

He took another step. His head stopped pounding.

He was in the hallway now, his blood had cooled.

He crept softly to the door of the guest bedroom. His lungs stopped aching all together.

He stepped through the cracked door and into the room. The vibration under his skin disappeared entirely.

Derek was standing at the open window, his hands unfurled slightly at his sides, as if he had been clenching them. The dried spots of blood on his hands was proof of that very thing.

Without turning, Derek spoke softly.

"I didn't want to over step my bounds, but the Bond. It. It was. Overwhelming me."

Walking over to stand beside Derek at the window, Stiles looked down at his old back porch and rusty grill. Stepping close enough so that their shoulders were touching, Stiles let out a sigh of relief when the Bond pulsed softly and then went quiet, warming Stiles to his very soul.

"I felt it too." They stood together in silence, letting their shoulders touch, matching their breaths so their chests rose and fell at the same time. Stiles didn't know how much time passed, or for how long they just stood there, breathing together. But when Derek looked down at the bed, and then back up at Stiles with a pleading look in his eye, Stiles didn't hesitate before climbing into the old bed from the left, while Derek took the right.

And if they fell asleep with their shoulders touching, and their breaths matched, well. Nobody needed to know that, now did they. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I hope you liked it! I thought it was important for Derek to talk to Stiles about his parents and their unique relationship. And I think it's important to point out that Derek had healthy relationship models in his life. Instead of JUST Kate and Paige.


	5. a battle of the wills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> stiles has a good day and then it gets pretty shitty.   
> Derek actually expresses himself okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiii! Thank you so much for the kudos and comments they honestly make my day. I really enjoy reading how much you're enjoying it, and how interested in the plot you guys are. It's really flattering and validating. 
> 
> Here's a new chapter. I hope you like it!

The first thing Stiles noticed was how very hot he was. He felt like he was swathed in a giant blanket tamale. 

In an attempt to figure out his surroundings, Stiles blinked one eye slowly, and then immediately groaned and shut it just as fast to block out the bright sunlight filtering in through the open window. 

However he had had his eye open long enough to see that the giant blanket tamale was not a tamale, but a Derek. 

This would be weird, except for the fact that Stiles was used to Pack sleepovers and the unavoidable cuddling that came with them. 

What was weird though, was how Stiles body thrummed at how Derek's body was covering his, it was gentle, like what Stiles imagined butterfly wings chafing against his skin would feel like. 

The inner battle of staying in bed with Derek or getting up to cool himself off and get rid of the sweat that was beginning to stick his TShirt to his back was one that Stiles duked out in his brain for the next several minutes. 

In the end, Derek was the one who decided for him. 

With his eyes still closed, Derek ground out 

"Go shower and change because I swear I can hear your brain and it's driving me fucking insane and it's too early in the morning." 

And with that, Derek rolled off him and settled himself on the far right side of the bed. Surprised at how disappointed he was at the loss of contact, Stiles pushed himself out of bed and made his way to his bathroom down the hall. 

It wasn't until he smelled bacon and French toast, that he hopped out and got dressed. Making his way down the stairs, he heard the faint sound of Patti Labelle filtering through the house. Peeking through the living room window he could see that the cruiser was gone, which meant that his dad had an early morning shift. 

Which also meant that the smell coming from the kitchen, and the Patti Labelle, was from Derek. 

Creeping his way into the kitchen, which was completely useless given the fact that Derek had super alpha man hearing. Poking his head around the wall, he was met with the sight of Derek softly humming to Pattie Labelle, flipping the bacon with one hand and soaking the old bread from the crisper in egg with the other. Decked in nothing but a wife beater and old Calvin Klein sweats, he was a gift to the eyes. 

A flow of warmth pulsed down to Styles navel, making its home and warming his insides at the sight of Derek making his place in the kitchen. It was the most at ease he had seen him in a long time, and it settled something in Stiles that he couldn't put words to. 

"Are you going to stop staring and come help?" Derek asked without turning around, dumping the soaked bread in a coating of granulated sugar and cinnamon. Blushing at having been caught, but not at all regretting his staring, Stiles made his way to Derek's side, taking over the French toast part of the breakfast. 

They worked together in silence for a little while, Derek flipping the bacon, and then pressing it down with paper towels and newspaper to soak the grease up. Stiles getting the French toast the perfect color of brown on the outside and crisp on the inside, before setting it down on a large serving platter. 

It was the first time in a long time that Stiles felt content to work in silence, instead of worrying on how to fill the moments with chatter. 

However he was the first time to break the silence, because curiosity won out over the contentment. 

"Since when have you been a Patti Labelle fan?" He asked, quirking one eyebrow and shooting Derek a cursory glance. 

Derek continued to study the bacon as he answered. 

"My mom used to play her when she would make us breakfast on the weekends. We came to know Saturday as French toast and bacon with Pattie Labelle. It was...nice. With this...thing" He motioned with the spatula to indicate he meant the Bond "I've just had her on my mind and this seemed like a nice way to start the morning." 

Stiles nodded, taking the last piece of French toast out of the pan and placing it carefully with the others. 

"It's very nice. Thank you, Derek." It had been a while since Stiles had said something so sincere and left it at that, without adding some snarky comment afterward. But this time he just left it at the thank you, and watched Derek from the corner of his eye. 

Something soft came over Derek's face briefly, before it was over taken with a short lived ugly twist of his mouth. 

"It's the least I can do. I've robbed you of your life, the least I can do is try and make it nice." 

And wow...was there so much that Stiles had to say to that. But he knew that whatever he said, Derek wouldn't hear it. At least not yet. So he tried to send his emotions on through the Bond. He tried to send his comfort and compassion, his warmth, down the faint tie that pulled them together. 

It was hard to tell if it worked, for Stiles saw no change in Derek's expression or body language, and felt no response from the Bond or Brand on his chest, so he just let it be, having to be content with the fact that he tried. 

Grabbing two plates and forks, Stiles set the breakfast table for two, and filled glasses. Apple juice for himself, cranberry juice for Derek (because Derek is gross). In all honesty it was an anomaly that they even had Cranberry juice in the fridge, but Stiles had gotten it just days before, to help treat his Dad's UTI. Oh the duties of being a parent to a parent. 

Derek came in, carrying both platters of food with him. The sound of Pattie Labelle flowing from his pocket. 

They ate in silence, but Stiles couldn't help some wuffles of happiness flow through him at the taste of the food. Derek really was a phenomenal chef when he put his mind to it. 

After they were done, they both collected the dishes and traipsed into the kitchen to clean up their mess. 

This was a habit for them, on Pack Nights, after the demolition of whatever they had for dinner, Stiles and Derek would retreat to the kitchen together and clean. No matter how turbulent their relationship was, this was one thing they seemed compatible at. Stiles as Washer and Derek as dryer. 

The brief period of time when the Pack used all things paper and plastic for their food, like plates and plastic utensils, before Stiles scolded them on it and made them switch to a more environmentally friendly option, he and Derek would clean up whatever the food had been fixed/delivered in. 

They had a nice system, that worked well, and Stiles felt the ball of energy grow as they worked together, as if it fed off the domesticity.

When the last dish was dry, and the used towels tossed in the wash, Derek ambled up to shower while Stiles settled on the couch. He took that time to check up on his phone, answer a few texts from Lydia who asked how things were, (he sent a simple "good" because things were way to complicated to explain over text) and to Danny who was asking if he had heard from Ethan recently. Whatever Danny saw in that guy, Stiles didn't know. Sure, he was hot and muscly, and he was nice enough to Danny, but Stiles still held that grudge of the time they broke his very handy baseball bat. 

Of course, since Stiles killed his brother, he should probably let that slide. 

And that's when the darkness that had been dancing at the edge of Stiles soul, came slinking back in to seep back into his very being. Struggling to make its mark on his heart. 

The energy under his navel came to life, thrashing around until it made him nauseous at the sensation. Fighting off the encroaching darkness with its warmth. But slowly. Very slowly, the darkness edged its way over and over. Pushing the warmth down down down into the ground. Leaving Stiles with that feeling of emptiness that he thought was gone for good. 

Suddenly a large hand clasped his shoulder, tendrils of warmth and light flooded from the the fingers of the older man, and swam to the very core of the darkness. Attacking the inky substance until all that was left was the sweat on the nape of his neck, and the left over panic and dread of the attack. 

Derek stayed put until Stiles heartbeat slowly reduced to his normal erratic beat. Then he came around to sit beside him, warming Stiles whole side with the weight of his sturdy shoulder. 

They were silent, the Bond a continual flow between them. 

Quietly breaking the silence, Derek spoke without looking at him. 

"How long does it normally last?" 

Stiles inhaled and exhaled with a large gust, running his long fingers through his short coif. 

"Typically a few days." Derek made a small sound in lieu of a response, and then flicked on the tv, settling on some stupid cartoon. 

And this. This was why spending time with Derek was a nice thing to do when you just needed some companionship. He never pressured you into talking, but made it clear that he was there to listen. And when you didn't want to talk about it, he would understand and try to help you as best he could. In Stiles case, it meant trashy morning cartoons. 

As time passed, Stiles got more and more comfortable, less gloomy and more himself. He found himself narrating bits of cartoons he remembered, and gesturing with his hands whenever he had to explain a simple plot to Derek. 

He nearly fell of the couch when he learned that the only cartoon that Derek ever truly enjoyed as a kid was Danny Phantom. When that was revealed Stiles immediately flicked to his Netflix cue and started Season 1 of Danny Phantom, singing along to the theme song and wiggling his body in some aborted attempt at dancing. 

When Danny goes into the ghost portal, Stiles nearly falls of the couch motioning to Derek to pay attention because this was his cartoon god damn and he was just missing the best fucking part. Even though Derek was paying attention, albeit not to the TV but to the overly excited teenager slapping his chest to pay attention. 

All in all it was a pretty good morning, until they each got a ding on their phones that was a text from Deaton. A reminder to stop by the clinic in 30 minutes to talk some more about the new 'development' in their relationship. 

Groaning at the loss of what looked like would be just a really good day without hard conversations, Stiles pulled himself up to find his beat up shoes. 

At least he tried to. The moment Stiles body was separated from Derek's, that ever present darkness came sweeping back in. Plaguing his mind and soul until he stumbled to his knees in surprise. 

"Stiles!" Derek exclaimed, grabbing the younger man underneath his arms and tugging him back onto the couch. Just like before, when Derek's skin was on his, that tie, that energy in his body, pulsed and expanded, battling away the nightmares of the dark and hideous. 

They both stared at each other for a few moments, and then Stiles summarized what they were both feeling with one word. 

"Fuck." 

~~ 

It took Derek's hand on the small of Stiles back while he put on his shoes, and then Stiles hand on Derek's shoulder as the older man drove the old Jeep. 

It had taken a heated conversation and some very eloquent points on Derek's end to convince the younger man to hand over the keys to Roxie, but not with the occasional grumble. 

When they reached Deaton's office they found the Camaro and green dirt bike waiting in the parking lot, the Pack huddled together outside. 

Derek parked the car and cast a worried look over at Stiles. 

"I'll come open the door for you, okay? Can I let go for just a few seconds?" 

Numbly, Stiles nodded. Mentally bracing himself for the oncoming attack, he pulled his hand back to allow Derek to get out of the car. The second he did, the darkness came crouching back, enveloping him once again. 

But then Derek was there again, battling his demons for him. Encircling Stiles waist easily with his arm, Derek helped pull him from the car. 

The Pack could tell something was wrong the moment they saw Derek was the one driving, and by the time Derek got Stiles out of the car, they were crowding around with heightened exclamations of worry. 

"Guys guys, I'm okay. I'm not dying, I'm still in all my sexy Stiles goodness." But his words were drowned out with multiple different hugs and pats on the face and arms. All the while, Derek's arm never left from its place around the younger man, which didn't go unnoticed by the Pack, but wisely none of them said anything. 

"Come on, we should probably get you to Deaton." Derek said, guiding Stiles gently through the sea of Pack members towards the doors. 

Once inside, Stiles opened up the gate for all of them to enter. Derek stayed by his side until the whole pack made it through to the back, and then they both followed in after them. 

Derek ended up settling Stiles and himself on the metal table, with the Pack scattered around them. 

"Hello everyone." Deaton said, coming out of the cat room and taking off the latex gloves on his hands, and tossing them in the trash. 

There were murmured responses, and Stiles rolled his eyes at how morbidly depressed everyone sounded. 

"Hey Deaton, how ya doing? Stiles asked, trying to break the tension around them. 

It didn't work. 

"Well let's just get right down to business because there's this whole vibe of - 'wow Stiles and Derek are doomed' which is false. We are not. So can we please just get some info because this is ridiculous." Stiles said, throwing his hands around as he tried to emphasize his point. 

"You're being ridiculous if you think I'm going to let go the fact that I can't fucking let you go without you collapsing." Derek ground out, the arm around his waist tightening slightly. 

"What!?" Scott asked, sounding outraged. He moved to stand on Stiles other side, sniffing up into his neck. "What's wrong with him?" Scott asked, aiming the question at Derek. 

"Oh yeah sure don't ask me." Stiles said, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation and accidentally hitting Derek in the nose. 

"Oops." He said, blushing up at Derek with an abashed expression. Derek just shook his head and glared at Scott. 

"We wouldn't be here if we knew that." He didn't say it unkindly, but firmly enough to dissuade from any other questions from the Pack. Derek refocused his attention to Deaton, who had been wordlessly watching the Pack interactions and Stiles subsequent eye rolling over all the worry. 

"Honestly guys, I feel fine. So all these 'omg Stiles is dying looks' can go away now, because as long as this Mr. Wolf Man is with me, I'm Gucci." Stiles said, patting himself on the chest a few times to get his point across. 

"And what happens if Derek isn't with you, Stiles?" Deaton asked, his gaze curious. 

"He collapses." Derek answered before Stiles could even open his mouth. Catching the glare from the younger man out of the corner of his eye, Derek muttered a small apology and fell silent. 

"I am just wondering what happens before you fully collapse Stiles. That was the reason for the question." 

"Ever since the Nogitsune, I have periods where it feels like that. That darkness you told us about. It feels like it's swarming my brain, like it feels like it's trying to drag me under again. Before the Bond, and the Brand, it just felt like an emptiness I could never quite fill, now it feels like suffocating if Derek moves even an inch away." It was quiet in the clinic, except for the soft whines from Isaac and Scott at the thought of stiles suffocating. 

"That's very interesting. And you said it comes in waves?" Deaton asked, moving to the locked cabinets in the corner, opening them with a small wave of his hand. 

"Yeah. Like it usually comes every three or five days, once or twice a month. Before the Brand it was manageable, I could even forget about it sometimes, now I can barely breath." 

"Hmm. This is quite a development." Deaton said, mixing a small portion of clear liquid together until it was bubbling slightly. Only when it had reached the appearance of very fizzy sprite, did he set the vial down and face them again. 

"The only thing I can come up with, is that before the Bond, the dark imprint on your soul batted away any type of positive energy fairly easily. Lots of people with Depression have this type of imprint on their soul as well. Bu the Bond, and the Brand on your skin are so powerful, based on love, loyalty, and happiness, the imprint can't fight it off, for it's a permanent positive fixture on you, so it draws in any kind of dark and disturbing energy to feed it in an attempt to fight off the Bond. It's easier for the Bond to do its job and fight off the imprint when Derek is there, because two against one is always better." 

It was quiet in the clinic except for the hushed breaths coming from everyone in the room. And then Cora was the one to speak up first. 

"So you're saying that this imprint on Stiles soul is battling against the Brand on Stiles soul?" She asked, coming up to stand beside Derek and wrap a small arm around his large shoulders. 

"Essentially." 

"So my soul, is having it out with my soul?" Stiles choked out, small chuckles escaping him. Derek looked over at the boy like he was insane, and his grip around him tightened even more, until it felt like Stiles was melded to his side. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just kind of ironic isn't it? Because it's like a battle of the wills, right? And like if one of them loses, I'm still losing because I'm playing for both teams!" Stiles said, still laughing. 

"It's not fucking funny Stiles." Derek spit out, and the abrupt anger in his voice made Stiles stop. "Do you know what it feels like when you're being swallowed up by that shitty darkness?" He asked, his eyes blazing with rage and pain. "It feels like I'm watching a part of me slowly be torn apart, bit by bit, an arm, a leg, then goes the liver and the kidneys. I nearly had a heart attack this afternoon when I let you go for a minute. A fucking minute, and it felt like you were dead. So it's not fucking funny." Derek finished with tacking on the last part in a quiet, small voice. And he held Stiles gaze with his for a few moments before turning his gaze back to Deaton. 

"How do fix it?" He asked. 

Deaton went on to talk about making some potion with both Derek's hair, and Stiles, that should hopefully combat the imprint of the Nogitsune jf Stiles took it daily. 

However, if he was honest, he tuned out as soon as Deaton started talking, too preoccupied with thinking over what Derek had said. 

If what Derek said was he really felt, then what would it feel like if one of them actually died. It wasn't out of the question, in fact it was very probable, what with the typically violent shenanigans they tended to get themselves into. 

Now that they wore each other's Brands, what would it be like to lose Derek? How could he live without Derek, but with Derek's Soul Brand on his skin. 

They weren't even a day in, and Stiles was already in way over his head. 

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg okay so this is like an integral part of the plot and I'm kinda pleased with how it turned out!
> 
> If you liked it, feel free to leave kudos, and if you have some feedback or just wanna comment, that's much appreciated too!
> 
> So much love for everyone! ❤️❤️


	6. parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> stiles and Derek are parents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI OKAY SO. this chapter is kinda fluffy and I just like it a lot. I hope you do!

The Pack shuffled out of the clinic, with the cryptic instructions for Stiles and Derek to never separate, and if it was absolutely necessary, only be apart for a few seconds. 

The potion Deaton was going to concoct would take a solid week of moonlight to distill properly, so it looked like they were going to be moving in with each other temporarily. 

It really should be weird, to feel Derek so close to him all the time, having constant contact with his skin, but it wasn't. Stiles wasn't sure if this was the Bond or just his own teenaged hormones. 

He wasn't blind. He knew Derek was pretty. Fucking drop dead hot and steamy frankly, and he would be an idiot to dislike being able to be all up in his business, and it was weird how it wasn't weird. 

Before the encounter in the woods and the forming of the Bond, it wasn't like Stiles and Derek were particularly handsy with each other. There were the occasional brushes on the back of the neck or hair from Derek, and rare hugs from Stiles, but that was normally reserved for Pack nights where physical touch was a natural occurrence. 

Now though, it just seemed natural to let himself fold into Derek's protective arm around his shoulder, or let Derek run his hand through Stiles hair before settling on the nape of his neck. And honestly, it should weird the fuck out of him, and it doesn't, which weirds him out even more. 

Hes pulled from the recess of his thoughts when Erica started tapping on his forehead. 

"Hellooo. Earth to Stiles? Yes? Hello? You're back. Thank you! Now, do you want to just head back to the house and Boyd and I will go pack some stuff for you?" 

Stiles just blinked at her for a moment before realizing that she meant him. That she meant packing for him. Because oh. That's right. He needed to live with Derek for a little while. Because his life had turned into some ridiculous trashy telenovela, and he was the main damsel in distress who needed his man to live. 

"Why can't Derek keep staying with me?" Stiles asked, stepping closer into Derek's space, and leveling Erica with a challenging look. As if to already question her response to the question he just asked. 

Rolling her eyes, and completely disregarding his tone, she just tugged both of them to the Jeep, the Pack following around them. 

"Because you aren't the only one that has some kind of weird supernatural tie with him, and we don't particularly love being away from our Alpha. Isaac came in to sleep with me and Boyd last night because he couldn't fucking sleep without Derek in the house. I will not be cockblocked by you Stilinski." 

Before Stiles could say anything in response, like 'hey, technically it's Isaac cock blocking but whatever.' He was interrupted by Derek. 

"What was Boyd doing in your room, Erica?"   
Derek asked. And oh. Oh that was new. It was completely ridiculous how much Stiles liked Dad Derek, and how it did things for his dick. But since he was in the presence of 5 werewolves, he promptly began thinking of dead puppies, and refocused his attention to the interaction between Derek and Erica. 

Blushing, Erica began to fiddle with her fingers. Slowly, the rest of the Pack contracted closer towards Stiles but kept their gazes on Derek. 

"I couldn't sleep either?" She said experimentally, and Stiles didn't have to be a werewolf to hear the lie. 

"We've talked about this Erica. And you too" Derek said, grabbing Boyd by the arm and pulling him around to face him. 

"There are so many risks with having sex, and are you guys really ready for a pup if it came along? I get it. Being mates makes it really hard, but until you two are ready to claim each other, sex shouldn't be happening." 

Both Erica and Boyd were flushing pink, bashful at having been caught and lectured. 

Sighing, Derek turned around to Stiles, whose wrist he'd been holding loosely. 

"They are right though. I should be at the house. Your dad can come stay with me too if he's uncomfortable with you being away, but betas can't be away from their Alpha for long." 

Sighing in resignation, Stiles nodded slightly. And then turned to face the rest of the pack. 

"You two," he said, pointing at Cora and Isaac, "Go to the MiniMart and pick up some groceries, at least 2 green vegetables, 5 things of fruit, and some rice. We have a frozen ham in the fridge, so we'll be set on the meat. Derek and I will make a longer trip tomorrow, when everyone else is sleeping or at church." 

"You two," pointing at Scott and Kira, "Go to the house and pack me some clothes. And for the love of god, do not Pack that horrendous Jack Black tee that's stuffed in the back of my dresser." 

"And you guys," Stiles said, leveling his stare at Erica and Boyd, who were still slightly flushed from Derek's lecture. "You guys are coming back to the house with me and Derek because we obviously have some things to talk about." 

They all stood together for a moment, and Stiles just stared at them for a moment before shooing his hands at them, "Go. You have your assignments. Shoo." He said, motioning with his hands until they slowly dispersed to carry out their orders. 

Derek reached for the driver side of the door, and was met with a harsh slap to the wrist. 

"No. Before we thought I was dying and would kill us both if I drove. Now, since we know I won't die if you're holding my head or my foot or some kind of appendage my body has, I'm perfectly fine, so scoot the fuck over Sour Wolf Man." 

Shooting a sour glance over at Stiles use of the pet name, but otherwise handing over the keys willingly, Derek let Stiles get in first and then ran around to the other side of the car in mere seconds. Stiles had barely begun to feel the effects of the imprint before Derek's hand came to rest gently on the nape of his neck. 

They were quiet for the first part of the drive to the preserve, both of them drained from the trip to the clinic. 

Derek broke the silence as they turned into the long woodsy drive up to the house. 

"What do you want to talk to Erica and Boyd about?" 

Stiles snorted, and shook his head, jarring Derek's hand slightly. 

"About how if they're in love with each other and having sex, why they think claiming each other is too big a step." 

"Claiming is a big deal." 

"Exactly, and so is sex, and saying I love you, but they don't seem that squeamish about those things. Don't your wolves like know your mate right off the bat?" 

Derek shook his head. 

"No, it takes time. But typically not very long, and with the depth of their relationship I wouldn't be surprised if they knew already." 

Taking that in, Stiles suddenly veered the Jeep over to the curb, slammed it into park and turned to face Derek. 

"Fucking shit. You're gonna fucking meet your mate and fucking shit. Just fuck and shit. You're gonna meet your mate and I'll be standing in the way of that. Like shit in a fucking buck-" 

But Derek cut him off before he could finish that obviously eloquent sentence. 

"I can't meet a mate, because we're Bonded together now, the Brand on your chest is like my bite, just circular instead of my teeth." 

Gaping at him, Stiles turned to stare out his window, taking in what he'd just said. 

"That bitch robbed you of a mate. What a witchy bitch." 

Placing his other hand on Stiles bouncing leg, Derek attempted to placate the younger man. 

"Stiles. It's okay, I probably wasn't going to have one anyways." 

"It's not okay!" Stiles exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air and accidentally smacking him in the face. "I'm sorry, but really Derek it's not okay. After Paige, and Kate, and then Jennifer, and let's not forget your weird thing with Braeden, you deserve to have someone significant in your life, forever, and that hag took that from you and stuck you with me. How unfair and shitty is that!" 

When Stiles didn't get an immediate response or agreement from Derek, he flicked his gaze back to the older man in search of an answer. He was met with the sight of Derek nibbling on his lower lip, a frown creasing lines into his forehead. 

"The things werewolves look for in a mate, especially Alphas, are things like, trust, trust that the other person will be loyal, faithful, never sway from their dedication to the Pack, to you. The next thing we look for is love, love for the Pack, and the pups, love for others of the forest, and love for you. The third is trust, we look for someone we trust with our lives, our secrets, our pups. And finally we look for someone who provides, provides safety and comfort when we need it, provides meals and care, provides love. These are all the things we look for." 

After Derek finished, Stiles banged his head hard against the steering wheel. 

"I'm so fucking sorry Derek. I'm so fucking sorry that I too-" but he was cut off by Derek's exasperated sigh, and then a large hand covering his mouth. 

"Let me finish. And then you can talk." He said, once Derek was certain Stiles would remain silent, he let go his grip on the boys sinful lips. 

"You are the most loyal person I know, you stay up for hours at a time researching when we need information. You have never once betrayed us. You are loving to a fault. The things you do for the people you love astound me constantly. I have never trusted someone more than you that wasn't family. I entrust my life and the lives of my Pack to you on a daily basis without blinking an eye. I never question if you have our best interests at heart. And finally, you provide for us. You cook for us, help clean for us, and talk with the Pups whenever they need it. You have become their shoulder to cry on, or the person to ask advice for. You ace every single category of what we look for in mates." 

Pausing for a few moments, Derek held Stiles gaze, as the Bond between them fluxed back and forth between warmth and something else that Stiles couldn't quite name. 

"You are right though, she did cheat me out of choosing my mate. But if it had to be anyone, I'm glad it's you."

They sat in silence, holding each other's gaze before Stiles jerked away abruptly. 

"Did the witch steal Derek Hale and replace him with a man that looks exactly like him but isn't permanently emotionally constipated? Like what the fuck? You not only just said more words than I've ever heard you say at once in like the four years I've known you, but you've also said words that mean shit. That are like. Nice and stuff." 

Stiles punctuated his lengthy speech with many wild gestures of his hands, his arms flapping at his sides like chicken wings. 

Arching one eyebrow, Derek shook his head. 

"What would the point be of lying to you, and letting you think you have slighted me out of some hypothetical mate, when you can easily concentrate on my emotions and thoughts." 

They were both silent, as Stiles thought it through and Derek let him. 

"This is weird." He finally said, staring resolutely ahead at the set of trees in front of them. He saw Derek nod in assent, and he slowly cranked the Jeeps ignition. 

They were silent for most of the rest of the ride. As they pulled up to the house, Stiles spotted the Camaro sitting in its normal space, signaling that Boyd and Erica were home. 

"I'm still going to lecture them on being stupid." Stiles said, tapping his fingers in a staccato rhythm on the steering wheel. 

"Hmm." Derek hummed in response, and got out to quickly run around the Jeep. 

They walked into the house together, Derek's hand wrapped loosely around Stiles elbow. They were met with Erica and Boyd sitting together on the love seat, looking nervous and bored respectively. 

Settling himself and Derek on the couch opposite them, Stiles crossed his arms and leveled them with his best frown. 

"You can stop looking at us like that. We haven't done anything wrong. It's not like we've murdered anyone." Erica babbled out, crossing her arms over her chest and generally just looking ready to pick a fight. 

Rolling his eyes and begging the powers At be for patience, Stiles responded exasperatedly. 

"Of course you haven't done anything wrong.-" From beside Stiles came a grunt. -"Fine, I don't think you've done anything wrong, but Derek does. But we just wanted to talk to you about your relationship." 

He was met with wide eyes, and Erica's horrified moan of embarrassment. 

"No thanks. We've had the safe sex talk from Finstock and honestly, we aren't stupid. Plus we love each other, so what's the big deal. At least we aren't getting hot and heavy with random people." Erica finished, flicking her gaze back and forth from Stiles to Derek. 

"The big deal is that if you're willing to have sex with each other and you love each other, then why aren't you mated?" Stiles was met with a heavy silence, littered with tension. 

Finally Boyd broke the silence, because Erica looked at a loss for words. 

"We're loyal to our Alpha, if we mated, my loyalty would be to Erica, and then to you-" he said, directing his attention to Derek. Stiles turned his head to catch Derek's quick expression of surprise, before it filtered back to his safe expression of neutrality. "It would be different if we were omegas, but we aren't. You're our Alpha, Derek. We belong to you." 

It was quiet for a few beats, and then the silence was filled with Erica's soft sniffles. One look confirmed that she was, indeed, crying. 

Focusing his attention back on Derek, Stiles decided to let him take over the conversation. He could feel the tide of Derek's emotions tethered to his own soul, his confusion and pain. His love for the two betas across from them. It was strange, how normal it felt to be so connected to someone else, to Derek. To feel his feelings as an extension of himself. 

He was brought back from his thoughts at Derek's soft "Come here" command to his betas. Derek easily opened up his arms, welcoming the two teens to come sprawling in his lap, his hand on the nape of Stiles neck to keep them connected. 

Erica had shaped herself onto one of Derek's knees, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoving her face into his shoulder. Her weight was a steady line of warmth along Stiles side. 

Boyd perched on the armrest of the couch, leaning back against Derek's arm, allowing the older man to run his hand along his back. 

"I will always be your Alpha. That will never change. I turned you with my own bite, no mate bond will cancel that out." 

"But what if we don't like. You know. You the same anymore." Erica asked, her voice muffled against the fabric of Derek's shirt. 

"Are you asking me if you won't love me anymore if you two decide to mate?" 

"...Yeah?" She said, her voice small. 

"Do you still love me now?" 

"Of course we do." Boyd answered. 

"Then why would that change when you two mate? You are part of my Pack, and you always will be. I give you my full and utter permission to mate and bring our back closer and stronger." 

They were quiet for a few moments. Just continuing to cuddle, and, Stiles assumed, considering what Derek had just said. 

This was a rare display of Alpha and Beta bonding, and Stiles was sure the memory of this would stick with him for years to come. He watched as Derek ran a hand over Boyd's head, and nuzzles at Erica with his cheek. How each teen responded with touches back. 

Finally Erica pulled back and she and Boyd looked at each other with evident expressions of love and certainty. 

"We would like to mate. If you're sure it's okay." Boyd said, never breaking his gaze from Erica's. 

"It's definitely okay with me." Derek said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips as he looked on at the exchange between Erica and Boyd. 

"How do we..like. How do we do this? Claim each other I mean." Erica asked, getting up from her seat on Derek's lap, and pulling Boyd to sit on the love seat with her again. 

Derek shifted slightly closer to Stiles and repositioned his arm to drape casually across his shoulders. 

"There are different ways. Stiles knows better than I do, my family had a traditional way of doing it that he found in Peter's bestiary." 

Stiles took that as his cue to step up and take over the conversation. 

"Right. Well, I guess I should first ask. Do you want to be mated together the way the Hale Pack did it? Or in a different way." 

Almost at the same time Erica and Boyd said "The Hale Pack." 

"We're the Hale Pack now, we carry on their traditions." Boyd said, baring his neck slightly at Derek to show his respect. 

Nodding, Stiles continued. 

"Right then. Well, what we do, is on the next full moon, you and Erica will be kept apart for most of the day, until at 9 PM, you will be separately undressed, and then you'll come together in a mineral infused pool to bathe together. Derek will say the ceremonial rites, and then at 12 you will essentially. Um. Boink?" 

Stiles said the last part on a higher note, his voice cracking slightly. All he got were three pairs of eyes blinking back at him as if he was insane. 

"That's it? We just, as you so artfully put it, boink. And then were mated?" 

Erica asked, her eyebrow quirked in a way that has Stiles thinking of ways to get her to spend less time with Derek. 

"I mean yeah, but Boyd will like. Knot you. So that effectively ties you two together for forever" 

Erica's eyes widened and Boyd, who had been taking a sip from his water choked and spewed it out everywhere. 

"That's a thing?" Boyd asked, wiping his mouth on his sleeve distractedly, looking at Stiles and then Derek. 

"It happens only at very emotional and pivotal moments of your relationship. And is most likely to happen on a full moon." Stiles responded, pushing his weight more into Derek's arm. 

They were all silent for a moment. And then Erica stood up swiftly. 

"The next full moon is in 3 weeks. So I guess we'll start planning. Do we even have a mineral pool here?" 

"No, the closest one is north of San Francisco. Derek and I will plan everything. Don't worry." Stiles said, reaching forward to pat grab Erica's hand and pat it with his own. She smiled down at him softly, leaning down to peck his cheek, before grabbing Boyd's arm and pulling him down the hall. 

"Thanks for being such great parents!" Erica yelled in her wake. 

"No sex!" Derek called after them, as they disappeared up the stairs. 

Stiles snorted inelegantly, and then thumped his head back to rest on Derek's arm. 

"What?" Derek asked, looking down at the younger man. 

"We just totally condoned them boinking, so I think your argument is meaningless big guy." Stiles heard Derek sigh and mutter something under his breath, but he was too tired to say anything about it. 

The events of the day left Stiles feeling drained. Big talks and then more big talks left Stiles feeling emotionally exhausted. 

"Did Erica really call us parents?" Stiles asked, his eyes fluttering closed. 

"Mmm, yeah." And from the sound of Derek's voice, he would guess that he had his eyes closed too. 

"I'm too young to have kids my own age Derek." 

"Doesn't mean you don't." Stiles didn't know how to argue with that so he didn't. 

He was just dosing off when the front door opened with a clatter, he felt Derek jump up and half shift in the same second. 

He felt sharp claws pricking his TShirt, and until the familiar rowdy sound of Isaac, Scott, Cora and Kira came pushing down the hall. 

"I'm telling you, he'll kill us." He heard Isaac say, and Cora's subsequent snort after. 

"I'm not scared of mom." 

"I'm scared when he lectures us on food and diseases." Isaac responded. 

They all appeared from the hallway, holding bulging bags of grocery's. Scott threw Stiles duffel bag on the floor by the beanbag chair, and then made his way into the large kitchen with the rest of them. 

Derek and Stiles both followed after, stiles perching on the marble counter with Derek leaning beside him, close enough for Stiles elbow and his shoulder to stay connected. 

Picking carefully at his nails, Stiles spoke. 

"If I open those bags and find a single pack of Oreos or cup of noodles, I will make you guys eat nothing but Eggplant Parm with zucchini noodles." He said casually, never letting his gaze stray from his fingers. He could hear the betas go quiet; and could feel Derek's slight amusement making it's down the Bond. 

There was a loud crinkle of something that sounded like the casing of a cookie box, and then tell tale sounds of a cabinet being opened and something shoved inside. 

Stiles looked up at the sheepish faces of his pack and beamed at them. 

"Excellent, now all of you go away so I can cook." 

He said, shooing them with his hands. As they all slowly made their way out of the kitchen, brushing softly by Stiles and Derek to say hello, Stiles called after them. 

"Also, go congratulate Boyd and Erica for their big decision, and put a trip to San Francisco on your calendars for the full moon." 

"Wait. Did they finally decide??" Cora asked, staring up at Stiles wide eyed. 

"Yup." He said, popping the P loudly. He was met with loud of shouts of happiness and shrieks of glee. And then they all ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs to go offer their congratulations. 

"You know, you still haven't called your dad and told him about the new development." Derek said casually, looking out the window that faced the woods. 

All he got in response was a loud groan of fuck, and a heavy Stiles forehead thumping him in the shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so omg the fluff. I love the fluff. Also, I really liked how Derek was so open with stiles in this. And how open he is to Erica and Boyd. Like honestly I really liked writing this chapter. 
> 
> If you enjoyed it please kudos, and comment. Your comments make my day! I love you all! ❤️❤️


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